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For Want Of A Card
Shark's Rib Beyond the barracks and past the soundproof barriers is the NCC's residential tavern, the Shark's Rib. The walls and ceilings are a deep blue colour, and various lighting creates a shimmering effect. Large curved support beams above the ceiling provide a protective cage over the recreational area. Energon flows through transparent spiral-shaped piping behind the bar to the right of the entrance, indicating to even the most over-energized Decepticon where to go to for a refill. Bartenders are available to dispense energon of various grades and blends. For people willing to part with more imperial credits and who know who and how to ask, the good product is kept under lock and key. There is seating at the bar for Decepticons of various sizes. There are also numerous booths for large groups. There is a small exposed area to serve as a dance floor with a raised level in front of it, complete with all the equipment necessary for public announcements and live group performances. Due to the lack of importance to the overall Decepticon mission, even more aesthetical decorations have been put into the Shark's Rib. Thin metallic spirals decorate the bar area, the furnishings and the walls. Music is often played through hidden speakers - often trumpet music, but also classic Imperial soldier tunes that every Decepticon knows well. Avalanche enters the Shark's Rib. Mortex looks up from the table, where he's shuffling the huge deck of cards in his sharp claws, as Avalanche enters. Scrapper is sitting opposite Mortex, watching the other shuffle the cards with apparent idleness, as he waits for the other to finish. On Scrapper's right sits a large metal box in which, if anyone is looking, sits a jumbled colleticon of various odds and ends that all seemed to have been gathered from various Cybetronians. Mecha Tiger walks into the room, having to push some of the smaller mechs out of his way. The Russian wrecking machine just looks around, taking in the others. "I hear there's some hot cards being played?" He asks, seeing who will pipe up. Mortex has his optics on that tip from Starscream's null ray, he does - despite the skeleton's sunken optics, it's very obvious to tell what's being focused on. His skull sweeps up to focus on Avalanche. "Ahhh...yes, yes...tell me, do you have any parts to bet...unless you want to put yourself up for bid!" He starts cackling again, setting the deck on the table and shuffling it expertly. Avalanche turns towards a nameless seeker, and then rips said Seeker's arm off. "I do now." Mortex lets out another uproarious cackle as the arm is removed. Scrapper looks around as he hears the sound of thr Seeker's arm being torn off by Avalance, causing oil to spurt across the walls and some of the nearby tables(along with their patrons). Scrapper pushes the chair back and, getting to his feet, strides over to the wounded Seeker and removes his laser scapel. "Hold still, soldier." For emphasis he rests an arm on the Seeker's soldier before flicking on the laser and using it to weld shut the torn conneticons. He does this for several minutes before he looks up at the Seeker and nods toward the door. "Report to the medical bay." He then turns and, as the Seeker's friends help him out the door, he returns to the table and looks over at Mortex. "So..what is the match?" Mortex spins his head around and between the two, a total 360* motion as he thinks - or perhaps he just likes getting a good view of who's in the room. He fans the cards out for a moment, then goes back to shuffling. "A classic Human game, to celebrate our -generous- hosts, for being so very easy to squish betwixt our grilles," he mocks, spreading out the cards and dealing four to each of them. The lights in the room flicker and dim, as if to provide them appropriate atmosphere, and the Imperial march starts up - Scrapper's trumpetting accompanying. Smoke eases from one of the seekers' bodies as he sips from some steaming concotion. And Mortex says, in a low voice that nevertheless carries with its hingey, squeaky, rusty quality... "...Go Fish." Avalanche turns towards the other patrons, they know better than to mess with the mech who has taken down Swoop, Slag, and Snarl. "Indeed, what game are we to be playing?" Asks the Horrorcon. Though, a moment passes as Mortex declares the game. "What?" Ava then asks and shakes his head, "Why not play something WORTH body parts?" The Decepticon slams his hand to the table. Scrapper seems to agree as his own more gravelly voice responds to Mortex's wiht a more skeptical air. "Go...fish? I understood that you wanted to play this game of cards, not to acquire piscine organic lifeforms." Mortex cackles at the reactions, spreading the cards on the table. "Oh come now! It's simple!" He replies, "It doesn't involve anything complicated, and it takes no time to learn. Moreover, it's -fun-. Do you dislike that sort of game, Avalanche?" The Necrocon's eerie red optics fixate on the horrorcon. "You know...-having- -fun-?" There's a subtle emphasis to the statement, as if he absolutely expects the sort of fun to be the sort where one or others might wind up losing body parts...himself included. And he probably won't mind too much either! He quickly relegates the rules to Scrapper. "It's simple," he wheezes, "Your goal is to get four of the same card. You ask 'Do you have any', and we must tell the truth and give up all the copies of the card in our hands. But you can only ask one of us, and we cannot lie!" He emphasizes this by raising one of his claws (one of them bigger than all the others, in fact - a recent addition?). "If we do not have any of those cards, the one of us you asked says 'Go Fish'. You draw a card, and then it is the next person's turn." Scrapper makes a prerecording "huffing" sound as he listens to Mortex's explanation, looking down at the cards he has alraedy been dealt, before looking back up at Mortex and speaking in a tone of impressive solemnity. "I enquire if you have any...eights?" Avalanche runs his clawed digits along the table, creating a terrible screech to follow, "Tread lightly, little one. I know how to have -fun-." Taking a chair, the large mech pulls it up and sets down. Taking the cards he has, he looks them over. "If you cheat me, either of you...I will -murder- the BOTH of you." Warns the Horrorcon. Mortex flicks his optics across his cards before selecting one of them in his long, slender, sharp claws, pulling it from the hand with a very, very slow sense of dignity. He lays it on the table and passes it over to Scrapper, then turns to stare at Avalanche. "Do you have any fours...?" He murmurs, the creaky, gear-grinder of a voice sharp against the sublime trumpeteering of Scrapper. Avalanche fans the cards out a bit more, before reaching up with his free hand and removing two of the suite. He then slides them torwards the skeletal mech. Optics shifting, Avalanche sends a cold glance down at Scrapper. "Are you to be having any six?" Scrapper takes the card that Mortex passes over to him as deep within his personality matrix the impulses move across in a self satisified way. Outwardly, of course, the Constructicon reveals nothing. He turns to look over at Avalance as the other address him, glacing down at his cards, before shaking his head. "You must try again!" Mortex places his completed set of Fours on the table and lets out a manic cackle as various Seekers start looking over the game, energon chips changing hands and other such bets going out. Mortex holds up a finger and screeches, "A round of oil for all of us!" before staring fixatedly at his cards. "Scrapper...you forgot to ask for cards." He chides. Scrapper glances down at his cards before raising his head to look over at Mortex. "What is wrong with the ones I currently possess, Mortex?" Avalanche grumbles, as he reaches for the deck and pulls a new card. However, Subsonic the seeker looks over at Avalanche and chuckles. "Can't the big bad Horrorcon play -go fis...URK!" That's when the Russian mech literally grabs the Seeker's face with his hand. The gigantic palm covering the Decepticon's face plate. "If you value your life, I would keep quiet." With that, Avalanche shoves Subsonic, causing him to hit the bartop and flip over it. Mortex watches the Horrorcon hurl the Seeker away before pointing at his trick. "Scrapper, your goal is to get as many sets of cards as possible," he clarifies, "You -do- want to win, don't you?" Scrapper seems to screen out Avalanche's rough housing as he studies Mortex briefly before nodding and then addressing the both opposite him. "Do you possess any 3s, Mortex?" Mortex swings his head back and forth, the sinister hiss of his voice momentarily covered by one of the Seekers throwing a punch at another seeker over who was buying the next round and what his mold looked like last night after said Seeker was done with him. "Go fisssssh," he wheezes, rotating his skeletal face to Avalanche. "Have you any...-nines-?" Sunder enters the bar, heading for the counter. He passes by the other Decepticons and notices the card game. He raises an optic brow. "Intriguing," he says, then motions to the bartender. By the time he gets to the counter and paws forth his credits, a slagged seeker is in a cube in front of him. He sips and sighs in satisfaction. Avalanche takes yet another card, and passes it to Mortex. Leaving the Horrorcon with a pitiful pair of cards left. His optics shifting as he looks towards Scrapper. "Do you have any fives?" He asks, his voice cold and menacing. However, there is a bit of tension, as Avalanche HATES to lose...especially in idiotic endeavors like this. Galvatron, leader of the Decepticons, has been reclusive of late. There's actually a really simple explanation for it -- you see, he CLASSIFIED and that is what has brought him out of his seclusion and to the Shark's Rib, watering hole for Decepticons both nasty and mean. His towering form prowls almost silently through the tables, glancing from Decepticon to Decepticon -- most either jump out of their seats and salute, stammer wordless nonsense in an attempt to do so, or remain passed out. It is only after a few moments that the red-eyed tyrant's skulking brings him to this game of... 'Go Fish.' In sharp constrast to Avalanche's state of aggression is Scrapper who, partly thanks to his cooly constructed faceplate, shows nothing as he studies his cards before pulling out two fives and calmly slides them across to Avalance as he turnms to look at Mortex. "I am curious as to the ownership of any 10s you possess." Mortex turns his head to look at Galvatron, his skeletal arm sliding up in a sharp salute and a wheezing murmur of 'Lord Galvatron, sir' before he bows at a rather odd angle and returns to his focus, handing over all three of his tens. Blast! And he'd been so close to a trick...curse that Constructicon's crafty conventions. "Remember," he hisses, "You must -have- one of the cards in your hand to ask for it. And with that in mind...Scrapper...have you any Aces?" The oil is set down on the table by a stumbling, stammering Gumby, who salutes Galvatron with undue haste and scampers back behind the bar. Mortex's long skeletal claws curl about it, taking a long, long sip. One can actually see the oil travelling down his system, into his driveshaft...it's rather unnerving, to be quite honest, and at least one Seeker gags and looks away from the...erm...ice-cold, incredibly-tense game. Scrapper also turns around to see the approach of the Decepticon Emperor before he places his cards flat face down on the table before standing up and also saluting Galvatron. "Hail, Lord Galvatron!" He doesn't answer Mortex's question as he remains at attention waiting for the Decepticon head honcho to respond. Avalanche takes the cards, and then smirks. Is this a clever bluff?! Probably not, but he takes the cards and then puts them onto the table. He has but a single card. "Mortex, do you have any queens?" He asks. Sunder immediately salutes and shouts "HAIL, GALVATRON!" the minute Galvatron enters. "Welcome, my Leader!" Mortex jerks his thumb at Galvatron and sets down his cards, thinking better of his position and standing for a similar salute...although it's more like a butler's bow, hand behind his arm, body bent low...still able to see those cards, though, in case anybody tried to cheat off him... "Mm," Galvatron replies to the salutes, eyes drifting to the poor, lonely seeker arm on the table, without so much as a body to keep it company. His sharply carved features twist gently, into a half-assed sneer that denotes 'I am trying to puzzle this out in my head.' Eventually, he turns his gaze toward the boxes of body parts, letting out a nearly silent grunt as he begins to put two and two together. "Is this some kind of -- improvisational performance art piece, Scrapper?" Galvatron asks the Decepticons' resident avant-corpse artisan. Mortex keeps his sharp-clawed thumb tight on his cards, just in case a certain Horrorcon decided to try something a bit under-the-table. Scrapper keeps both his body and his face straight as he is addressed by Galvatron, adopting a pose that has been used by soldiers being addressed by superior officers throughout time and space, before he speaks. "It is an intellectual exercise, Lord Galvatron!" Galvatron immediately adopts a look of blatant suspicion; the phrase 'intellectual exercise' with regard to /anything/ the Decepticons do in their own time is enough to trigger such a response, and to be frank, often rightly so. Mortex tilts his head upwards on that bizarre hinge installed on the back of the neck. "Lord Galvatron, if I might be permitted to clarify further?" He hisses. Without looking away from Scrapper -- and seriously, that is an active glare he is dishing out -- Galvatron replies to Mortex, "By all means." It's a cordial statement delivered in a blase, annoyed tone, the implicit message of 'keep it quick and make it good' not even needing to be spoken. Mortex does exactly that. "It is a game of chance, with a wager of spare parts to the winner." Avalanche sets down his card, and sighs. "I fold, this game isn't worth the time and effort." That and Avalanche doesn't need parts. "The winner can have the arm." He chuckle leaves the mech, as he stands up. He then turns to face Galvatron. "Lord Galvatron, it is being a pleasure." Mortex casually sweeps the cards Avalanche dropped back into the deck without moving from his bow. Scrapper continues to stand upright as Galv's glare seemingly rebounds off Scrapper's angled and expressionless face. Sunder continues to watch the game while sipping his cube. He'd heard of the terran game, "Go Fish", before. Avalanche quickly snaps his hand, and steals the Sweep's energon cube. "Thanks Sunder!" He says, and gulps down the rest of the liquid energy. The music in the club shifts to a cheery, upbeat song. It's only after careful listening that one would note that the lyrics are actually 'Praise Almighty Galvatron', and that those aren't singers, they're torture victims put to music. "--hh. /Gambling/?" Galvatron says, his voice raising significantly, tone growing more fiery by the syllable. He snaps his glare away from Scrapper, turning it toward the standing Avalanche, and then Mortex himself. "...why didn't you just /say it/ outright, then?!" Galvatron seems angry, but he always does, so it's a bit like weathering a light drizzle as opposed to dealing with a monsoon. "Gambling is /all/ half of this cretinous army /DOES/ in their spare time!" As the music becomes cheery and light, Galvatron gets madder: "/I AM NOT SOME IMBECILE WHO NEEDS TO BE COAXED INTO LOOKING THE OTHER WAY WITH EFFETE LANGUAGE!/" Avalanche says, "Maybe you could grace us with your card skills, Oh mighty Galvatron?" A nearby Seeker bursts into flame as a result of Galvatron's angry language. Avalanche grins and looks at Mortex, "I believe Mortex has claimed to be a better card strategist then even Cyclonus..." Mortex bows his head even lower. "Indeed, I would be honored to lose to such an unbeatable opponent." Play the ego like a violin and start praying to Primus Galvatron doesn't decide to blow you away anyway, Mortex... Scrapper steps aside, still straight backed and straight faced, as he moves around Galvatron to stand to the right of the chair he was recently occupying. He gesuters at it with his left hand while scooping up the box neatly with his right. "I have some other details to arrange, Lord Galvatron. My chair is available if you wish to use it." "YOU DARE /CHALLENGE/ THE MIGHT OF /GALVATRON/ TO A MERE /CARD GAME/?!" Galvatron says, pointing an accusing finger at Mortex, with Avalanche being the proverbial devil in his ear. (As if Galvatron needs more of one.) As Scrapper wisely vacates, Galvatron replies in a snarling, poisonous tone, "/ALL/ CHAIRS ARE AVAILABLE TO GALVATRON! DON'T FORGET THAT, 'INTELLECTUAL!'" Finally, though, his tantrum seems to gain form and direction, as suddenly as it erupted. "/YOU/," he says, glaring at Mortex again. "PLAY ME AT YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE GAME -- IF YOU /DARE/." Mortex bows again, waiting until Galvatron sits down. "Yes, my lord Galvatron." Slowly, he writes down the rules for Galvatron on a datapad, sliding it to the middle of the table...and eminently aware that the only true rule when playing with Galvatron is that whatever Galvatron says, goes, so if galvatron decides to pick up the datapad, okay, if not, he'd learn to improvise and lose creatively. Once Galvatron has sat down, Mortex seats himself delicately, lifting his hand. "Oh mighty lord Galvatron...do you have any Aces?" Avalanche shuts his optics off with a grin from ear to ear, he did what he had set out to do; Putting Mortex into a literal no-win scenario. "Looks like you finally have a challenge Mortex, I mean, with your legendary skills. No one has EVER beaten Galvatron at such an endeavor before..." Hinder must have followed Sunder into this room, because she was previously unaware that it existed. And that makes it INTERESTING. She's shuffling around the perimeter of the room, exploring and getting into everything she can. Galvatron takes a seat, and reviews his cards. He seems to calm as he does so, or at least compress his fury into something less ostentatious. He grunts with a small smile at Avalanche's boasting; it goes without saying that Galvatron has never lost because the games where Galvatron is losing have an awful tendency to break out in sudden and tragic violence. Still, he focuses on the matter at hand, and looks at Mortex evenly. "Yes," he says, confidently, but makes no move to transfer them. It's almost a challenge; it's mostly that Galvatron has not bothered to learn the rules. Mortex very evenly continues staring at Galvatron, showing absolutely no fear. This isn't to say that he isn't -feeling- fear - on the contrary, even the masochistic mod-obsessed medic was so terrified he needed a sip of his oil to calm his nervous systems - it's just that Mortex's face, being nothing but a skull and optics, was incapable of expressing it. "Very well, Lord Galvatron." He replies, sliding -his own aces- over to Galvatron. It wasn't...exactly...admitting defeat? But, uh, well...at least he was being creative about it. The medic's sharp mind rolls fast as lightning, trying to come up with a way to get out of this. Avalanche moves back with the other no name Decepticons, staying out of immeadiate 'NYAAARGH' range. "So uh, boys, why dont we make a wager here?" Looking to add fuel to the fire. "I bet twenty energon cubes...AGAINST Galvatron." As Mortex slides the cards over, Galvatron glares down at them -- the Decepticon leader is, of course, suspicious of anything just /handed/ to him. Nonetheless, he takes them, adding to his own hand. He spends a minute reviewing his hand, pausing only to glare at Avalanche. Then, with a snort, he says to Mortex: "Do... /you/. Have any /aces/." Mortex swings his head side to side. "No, my lord. I do not have any aces." He doesn't -dare- say the words 'go fish' - such a thing would unDOUBTEDLY get him...well, shot, for daring to command the great Lord. I hate you Avalanche, flashes through his mind, and he resumes his turn with a "...Lord Galvatron, do you have any fours?" He's well aware all the fours are sitting in the trick he won from Scrapper. Instantly, a roar of bets begins to ensue. All the other Decepticons throwing out numbers of cubes, for Galvatron to win. What does the Horrorcon have up his sleeve, obviously, it can't mean anything good. Galvatron spends another long minute reviewing his cards. He slowly builds up what he assumes to be the rules in his head, but no imaginary tactical scenario can help him here. Realizing that his situation is dire -- or, rather, assuming that it is -- Galvatron growls, "/No/." Hinder startles and looks around at the sudden roar of activity. This is about the time she'd skitter to the relative safety of someone she knows will protect her, but Avalanche is smack dab in the middle of the chaos. Sunder is still by the bar, and under his bar stool is a perfect place for Hinder to hide. Mortex nods very, very slowly and draws one of the cards from the deck - the first time he's touched the deck the whole time. Once again, he's counting on Galvatron's imaginary rules system - or at least what he thinks Galvatron thinks he thinks Galvatron thinks he thinks Galvatron thinks he knows of Galvatron's imaginary rules system - to see him either through, or to a loss. Preferably the latter. If Mortex had eyebrows and eyelids, he'd be playing blind right now for hope that he would...well, lose. FASTER. Avalanche waves off the others, trying to watch this INCREDIBLE event. The passing of cards, and drawing from the deck! It's like...extreme sports, without the extreme...and sports. "What a waste of time, if Mortex loses so quickly. I mean, to have TAKEN Galvatron's TIME from him. Right guys?" A couple of the Gumbies nod. Galvatron responds to Mortex drawing a card by /also/ drawing a card, and grunting as he shuffles it into his hand. Mortex very slowly, very quietly murmurs something that carries due to his squeaky, rusty-sounding voice. "Lord Galvatron, is Avalanche's rudeness bothering you? He is clearly trying to make your eminence feel inferior for his own amusement. Despite your obvious and incomprehensible superiority." Avalanche says, "Quit stalling." Mortex looks at his cards, placing another one on the table. Maybe...if he confused Lord Galvatron enough...and Avalanche distracted their mighty master...he could get away with a convincing loss.. "Quiet, Avalanche," Galvatron says as he stares at his cards, silver brow furrowing. "I'm /concentrating/." His crimson eyes turn up toward Mortex. "Make your next move, you ancient wreck." Avalanche holds his words back, as...Galvatron was actually calm in his statement. This is by far worse than him venting...as it meant he was CHANNELING his anger. The Horrorcon does not speak a word more. Hinder carefully slinks her way around tables and under chairs and behind huge metallic feet until she reaches Avalanche -- who is closer to her than Sunder at this point -- then puts one little paw on the Horrorcon's foot. Mortex bobs his head honorably, thanking his lucky stars for Galvatron's intervention as he places a card face-up for no reason he can conceive in his mind. A Queen. He hoped Galvatron's egotistical...wel...circuits...would cause him to play a King and claim the cards, but Primus, who knew what was going on in there? It was mind-numbingly exciting. Yes, the mod-obsessed medic wasn't just terrified, he was -excited-. He was so happy that if he could grin, he'd be grinning even wider than his faceplate allowed, despite the sweat that would be rolling down his body like a flood. It was a CHALLENGE...he had to lose, make it convincing, dodge Avalanche's thoughts, and avoid getting blasted by Galvatron. He relished this sort of thing. It was an intellectual challenge of the highest order. No words had been spoken - he was trying to fake out the most powerful Decepticon ever with nothing but a nonexistant ruleset and a psychology that barely held up to the master's whims. If he made it out of this... Well. Galvatron stares down at the queen on the table, silently, for a long moment. Finally, he slams his cards down on the table. Face-up, at that, but it doesn't seem to matter to him. "Are you /insinuating/ something?!" the tyrant spits, punching the tabletop and then snatching up the queen and waving it in the general direction of Mortex's face. "WHY DON'T YOU JUST COME OUT AND /SAY/ WHAT'S ON YOUR /MIND/, CRIPPLE?!" ...crap. "That you, oh mighty Galvatron, are the King - compared to you, the pathetic autobot leader Rodimus Prime is but a crippled fembot with a fancy hat." Oh thank Primus. "Only the King can defeat the Queen, just as it is your right and yours alone to destroy your foe, grind him beneath your heel, and rule the Galaxy as is your glorious destiny. This game is but a tribute to you." Avalanche looks down at his foot, feeling something tapping against it. "Oh, Hinder. Good to see you." He says, before snapping his attention back towards the game. The sudden outburst more than enough to cause panic, especially being Galvatron. Galvatron thrusts the face of the card at Mortex's own. "THEN YOU ARE /BLIND/!" he roars, anger losing its focus and spiraling into the scattershot realm of general vehemence. "TELL ME WHAT CARD THIS IS, OLD MAN!" he roars. Finally, the game is more or less brought to a conclusion by Galvatron standing, using one mighty arm to not only flip the table, but throw it across the bar. Cards scatter. "/TELL ME/!" Hinder actually yeeks aloud at Galvatron's outburst. It was programmed into her psyche by Soundwave that Galvatron was NOT to be crossed. And if he sounds mad, something's wrong. She skitters behind Avalanche's foot and tries to make herself invisible there. Mortex - very, very evenly - no mean feat, and partially because he's too busy mentally making certain of all his body parts - says, "It is the queen. Because I am not worthy to play the King, as I am not you, almighty Galvatron." Avalanche does move to better protect the smaller Decepticon. Crossing his arms, Avalanche stands stalwart between the tyrant and the tiny tape former. Galvatron is literally trembling with anger, a tiny whine emitting from a collection of shuddering servos throughout his body. It's a bit like if one muted the noise of a fussy teakettle -- and it provides a fine soundtrack to his rage, when said rage's vocal nature isn't drowning everything else out. Without skipping a beat, Galvatron's tirade continues: "INDEED YOU'RE /NOT/!" the madman bellows, crushing the card in his hand. Galvatron then throws the card at Mortex's head -- not very hard, but the point is more to be insulting than to actually hurt. "REMEMBER THAT, /PEON/!" Galvatron turns around, and addresses the crowd: "OUT OF MY WAY!" He then starts to jostle through them, ready to shove anyone foolish enough to stand their ground. "I WILL BE IN MY /CHAMBERS/!" Sunder ducks as the table narrowly misses him. He gets up and stares...-STARES-...slackjawed at Mortex. By Unicron, the mech had bearings. He just wonders how quickly Mortex can think on his feet and avert the full wrath of the Decepticon Leader. He wisely holds his tongue, glancing over at Hinder and Avalanche. And then...Galvatron makes one final rageburst and...leaves. The Sweep just sits there. Mortex practically goes limp as soon as Galvatron has left. He just dodged the QUITE LITERAL fusion cannon to the face. Take -that-, Avalanche, you slagheap. Next time I'm turning your pain receptors on quintuple. Very, very slowly, Mortex picks up his mug, drains the entirety of it, stands, and slowly walks over to the bar. "...more, please," he hisses, his voice trembling with fear. "...I would like to forget what just happened so my hands do not tremble during my next operation.